by M. N. Forgy
Slowly he pulls out till the head of his length reaches my lips, then he drives into me hard, causing me to groan loudly. My fingers claw into the wet carpet, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He drives into me again and again. Skin slapping skin, my knees slipping along the whiskey-soaked carpet as if I were on a goddamn slip and slide.
“God, yes!” I cry, meeting his thrusts eagerly. My lungs scream as I begin to lose my breath, my mouth going dry as I practically pant for more.
His hands slide around my waist and up my stomach cupping my breast, pulling me from the floor. My back against his chest now.
“Say, you believe me about everything.”
“I—I believe you!” I cry, my head flinging back onto his shoulder. His hand slides up my collarbone gently grabbing me by the throat.
“Say you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear, his fingers digging into the soft skin of my throat.
“Yours.” With my release in sight, I’d say anything right now.
“Know that you will forever be mine, Jillian. I’ve never loved anyone before, but what I feel for you, I ain’t just going to let you walk away, baby.” Teeth bite down on my shoulder, and a powerful warmth explodes into my lower half so hard, I instantly go languid in his arms. Warmth knifes through my body so wildly I go deaf and stars shoot behind my eyes. Zeek grabs at my limp body, driving into me harder and harder. Fucking me like a rag doll, until he roars with his release so loud my hearing snaps back to normal. We both slump limply to the floor, our bodies tangled in a mess of sex, whiskey, and sweat.
My knees sting from rug burn and my body is sticky with alcohol and cum. But I’m the most at peace that I’ve been in days.
“Still hate me?”
I frown, because if it’s one thing I’ve learned…I can never hate Zeek. Not even if he killed me himself. I’d go to the grave loving this man.
“Why didn’t you tell me about who my father was when we left Vegas?”
He sighs, his fingers trailing up and down my arm blissfully. Turning my head, I look into his dark eyes, ones that are capable of love one second and putting a rifle to someone’s head the next.
“You had enough falling apart at your feet, I didn’t think letting you believe your father was the hero you thought he was a little bit longer was such a bad thing. Even if it meant you hated me, it was worth it.”
I lace my fingers with his, wanting to be touching him. This right here is why I love him. He may do the most terrible things, things that are unimaginable to any normal person but it’s the things in between that hooked me so quickly.
“Looks like we do have something in common,” I mutter. He looks at me with a puzzled look. “We both have shitty parents.”
“It’s fitting. Our dads got into each other’s pockets when we were kids, they started it all.”
“What do you mean?”
Running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip his forehead creases. “You sure you want to hear all of this?”
I nod. As much as this is going to hurt, hearing how bad of a man my father—Lieutenant Oaks—really was I need to hear it. “I need to know what’s real and what isn’t if I have any hope in piecing things back together.”
Scratching his head, he takes a deep breath.
“Here is what I know. Every man has his price, my dad was an expert at finding that weakness. In fact, it’s one of the most useful tools he taught me. Your father’s was power; his job. My dad bait and switched clubs all around the Las Vegas area, turning the leaders of gangs and clubs into the hands of your father. Your dad went up the ranks with how many criminals he was taking off the street, some had been wanted for ages.”
My head throbs with the information, things clicking into place that didn’t before. “I remember him telling me he got Lieutenant so quickly because he followed the rules and that literally brought the criminals to his front door.” I shake my head angrily. “He was a liar.”
Zeek chuckles, “In a way, he was kind of right.”
“You said he was a murderer?” The words come out painfully.
“You sure you want to know?” He runs a hand along my spine. I nod, biting my lip to keep from bawling.
“A clean deputy caught your dad and Frank dealing one night, and your dad buried him.”
I suck in a breath so sharp I cough. Zeek slaps my back, helping me catch my breath.
“You okay?” My lips purse, and tears race out of my eyes.
“When your dad got Lieutenant, and my dad became the most outlawed club member in the west, things went sour between the department and club.”
I roll over onto my stomach, resting my head on my arms. Fixated on the wall as Zeek continues to explain how Lieutenant Oaks was an outlaw himself, and put my mother and me in danger without us even knowing it. Him allowing me into the department with a blind eye was like strapping a ticking time bomb to my chest. Closing my eyes, pieces that never seemed to make sense as I was growing up fall into place.
“Lieutenant or not, how is that enough to pay off the mortgage, Larry?” My mother slapped the bill down on the table. I was peeking around the corner, watching them carry on their fight.
“Caroline, don’t question how much money I make, or what I bring into this household. I paid it off, you should be thanking me.”
“You have been acting really strange lately, I don’t even know who you are anymore.” My mother rubs at her forehead, her voice warning she’s about to cry.
My father throws his hands out like he doesn’t know what to do.
“Caroline, I have just been,” he pauses, and looks down at the floor. “It’s not easy being responsible for so many deputies, I’m doing my best. The money came from a bonus, I thought it would be nice to pay it off so we didn’t have to worry about it.”
My mother looks up, wiping her face. “You promise?”
My father smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, dear.”
“How could I have been so blind?” I whisper, still focused on the wall.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zeek
WAKING JILLIAN UP THIS MORNING, her knees are rosy red from the carpet. After I fucked her into the floor, we got a shower together where we practically kissed the entre time. I never saw kissing as a needed thing before Jillian, but last night I couldn’t get enough of her tongue in my mouth, my hand in her hair. There were so many unspoken things in those kisses.
She stirs, the sheet riding down to the mound of her bare ass. I wouldn’t let her put clothes on before bed. I wanted to feel all of her next to me.
“You hungry?” I can’t help but run my hand along her bare spine, I fucking missed touching her.
“Mm, yeah, I am, actually.” The sound of sleep thick in her voice is husky and adorable.
“Let me see if I can find anything.” Leaning over I grab my jeans off the floor and pull my wallet out. “I have about seventy bucks. I can order something. What do you feel like eating?”
“Umm.” She hums as she digs her head into the pillow. The sun shining along her silky skin. Climbing onto the bed I hover over her, and kiss at her neck. The smell of her amazing. “I want Chinese. Those noodles are so good and fattening I am practically drooling.”
Skimming my hand along her curves I smile wickedly, pushing my boner into her sheet covered ass. “I got something you can drool over.”
She laughs.
“Feed me first, I need fuel.”
Groaning, I nip at her shoulder.
“I’ll call the China man, and get your noodles, Rookie. Then that pussy is mine. I’m a starving man of a different sort.”
I place the order for Chinese food and wait for it to be delivered. Once the man shows up I slip the money through the mail slot and ask him to leave it. Last thing I need is some delivery boy recognizing me and squealing to the authorities.
“Wow, that’s very James Bond of you,” Jillian laughs. Leaning against the bedroom door a white sheet wrapped around her frame and
pooling around her feet. She looks angelic, goddamn perfect.
I drop the bag of food to the floor, my dick straining against my pants ready to wreck that canvas of innocence pouring off of her right now. I want to fuck the good girl right out of her.
“What are you doing?” Ignoring her I grab her under the thighs and lift her. The sheet acting as a barrier between her firm tits and my chest so I pull it from her body. “I think—”
I cup her mouth with my hand, my eyes focused on hers.
“Stop fucking thinking, Jillian.”
Her eyes flash, before her chest rises as she breathes through her nose.
Turning us I plow her back against the bookshelf, her feet pushing my jeans down my ass just enough for my cock to spring free.
“I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to slam into that pussy so hard you’ll think I’m an asshole first, then you’re going to be praising my cock second.” She nods, her hair falling in her face. Those beautiful eyes growing heavy with lust.
Kissing her collarbone, I run my hands up and down her smooth thighs. I grab her ankles and place them on one of the lower shelves. “Hold on to me tightly, and use the shelf for traction.” I inform, my words brushing against her lips. Her cheeks flush, and she nods quickly.
Pulling her knees apart her pink pussy glistens in waiting. Biting my bottom lip I look up at her under the hair that’s fallen in my eyes. “Hold on, baby.” I thrust myself into her wetness in one quick movement. Her back arches, her mouth gaping wide as her fingers claw into my shoulders. I withdraw and drive back into that warm pussy, fucking the air right from her. I don’t give her time to catch her breath, instead I drive in and out of her over and over, her cunt tight and wet and strangling my cock to the point I won’t last long.
I grab on to one of the shelves above her head, the impact of my hips against hers causing books to fall, on our heads and shoulders. I don’t stop, I continue to screw her like my life depends on it.
“Oh mah gawd!” she moans, her mouth hanging open. A thick book falls on my shoulder, one on her arm, but we don’t slow down. We’ve reached the point where pleasure outweighs any sense of pain.
My nuts squeeze tightly, and warmth swims up my shaft until I’m seeing double.
“Goddamn, baby,” I growl into her neck, teeth clenched, neck strained as I cum inside of her.
Slowly I pump once, twice more, not wanting it to end.
One of her hands run through my hair, her eyes hooded, hair everywhere.
“That was wild,” Jillian speaks softly, a wicked smile on her face. She looks devious, like a sex vixen. My job here is done.
I smile, helping her to her feet.
“I got a few days I gotta make up for.”
***
“SO IT WAS YOURS, did you ever pray with it or whatever they call it?” I slurp a noodle in my mouth. “Who gave it to you?” Zeek and I are sitting in a pile of books in front of the bookcase, the sheet tangled around us while we eat Chinese from the box. The radio playing “Let It Go” by James Bay.
“Damn, you ask a ton of fucking questions.”
I shrug, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I feel like a stray cat getting scraps of food thrown at her. If Zeek put his hand near my food right now, I might claw his face off.
“I forget how you don’t like opening up about personal things.”
“Right, it leads to fights. So, you get one question.”
Chewing on my noodles I ponder the question I want to ask.
“Do you pray? Who gave you the beads, or did you buy them?”
Shaking his head, his tongue trails along his bottom lip, before tucking between his teeth. “That’s three questions, babe.”
Stopping, I replay my questions in my head.
“Yeah, but they go together, they’re all about the same thing.” I defend.
“My mom gave them to me, basically told me to pray because I was a piece of shit and hopefully the Lord could bring some good out of me. I pray when I feel like I have nowhere else to go, but other than that it makes me feel...shitty, like I’m not good enough.”
My chest aches for him, hearing how his mother tried to cure him with religion, keeping him from seeing what religion really is.
“Your mom sounds like a—”
“Bitch?” Zeek finishes.
“I was going to say irrational.” I blink.
“I think it’s safe to say you and I see things differently, babe,” Zeek states, then pauses.
“I got mommy problems, and you got daddy issues. No wonder the sex is off the charts,” he continues, and I chuckle.
He shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, his leg stretching out and kicking a Geometry book. It’s thick, and I’m sure bruises will pop up all over mine and Zeek’s body within the next twenty-four hours.
“How’s your arm?” I point at his arm that was shot.
“It hurts. A lot.”
“Think the Devil’s Dust will have a doctor to look at it?”
He plays with his food, deep in thought, but he doesn’t respond.
“You nervous about seeing your brother?”
He shrugs.
“I wouldn’t blame him if he turned us away, I definitely deserve it.” He looks up at me, and tucks a hair behind my ear. “I just hope he doesn’t turn you away.”
I grab onto his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Zeek, you can’t leave me.” My heart beats off rhythm, scared he’s going to leave me at the Devil’s Dust so he can go take care of business.
His face tightens, his jaw ticking as his eyes look into mine. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Jillian. I’d never leave you behind.” He pulls me into the crook of his body, and kisses my head.
He leans across the carpet, and grabs his jeans. He fishes out the cross, and places it in the palm of my hand.
“Take this—”
“Zeek, no, this is yours.”
“Take it, I want you to have it.” Sliding my fingers over the shiny cross I peer up at him under my lashes.
“You sure?”
He nods. “Yeah, think of me or some shit.” His mouth lifts in the corner.
“I will.”
“It’s an antique one, it’s real silver. My mother told me an Italian man made it for his daughter who was set to marry some rich guy. On her wedding day a man dressed in rags plowed through the church doors declaring his love for the daughter. He was poor, and could offer nothing but his love. He was the town’s scoundrel. He stole, and caused chaos around the small town. The daughter stepped away from the altar, handed the rosary beads back to her father and ran off with the diamond in the rough.”
My thumb presses along the sharp edges of it, the bite of its point piercing the pad of my finger.
“Careful, it can cause some damage if someone really wanted to.”
“That’s a beautiful story. Is it true?”
“I’m not sure. I do know nowadays the only pendants you get with rosary beads are plastic, that this one is old and handmade. So it makes me think the story is true.”
Zeek grabs my chin, his eyes finding mine. He’s the scoundrel, and I’m the daughter running from the life she was taught to live. It’s us.
“I love it.” I press my lips to his, clasping my hands around the first real gift Zeek ever gave me.
***
THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS are filled with sex, fast food, and us naked most of the time. We bonded, laughed, cried, and slept a lot. It was like we were back in my house in Nevada. We knew the world was circling the house, waiting to tear us apart piece by piece. We just wanted to make sure we were strong, and ready to take on any challenge it was contemplating throwing at us.
One thing is for sure, I gotta start pulling my weight. Zeek has been doing everything while I was mentally checked out and working through my shit. I owe it to him. “To get my hands clean, I gotta get them dirty.” Isn’t that what he said?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zeek
A few days later
TODAY IS THE DAY, we have to leave. We can’t hold out here anymore, Paw needs it for running business, and we gotta face the storm eventually. Sitting at the edge of the bed I glance over at Jillian, she’s fast asleep, her mouth open and hair everywhere. She’s adorably geeky. Leaning over I give her a shake.
“Hey, get up.” She groans, rolling onto her back. I can’t help but fondle her bare tit. I bite at my bottom lip, wanting to take her badly this morning.
“Why?”
“We need to see if that car is gone.”
Yawning, she sits up on her elbows. Tangling my fingers into her hair, I bring her head back to look up at me.
“Do we have to?”
“We do. If we don’t, the chaos will just catch up to us. It’s best to keep ahead of the storm.” I kiss her forehead. “Get up and get dressed.”
“I think you forget you’re kind of chaotic yourself,” she replies, twirling a piece of hair. I squeeze her next to me, wanting to savor this moment. “And that’s exactly what’s going to keep your stubborn ass alive.”
After getting dressed, Jillian meets me in the garage. Her shirt pulled together at the bottom and tied in a knot. She catches me looking at it, and shrugs.
“You ripped all the buttons off, I had to improvise.”
***
PULLING THE RUSTY VAN out of the garage, we head out. Passing skinny ass people jogging with prissy ass looking poodles.
Sitting back Jillian groans, looking down at her stomach.
“You hungry?” I ask looking around the van for more chips.
“Yes, but not for chips. I’ve had enough chips.” I rub at the back of my neck. I need to get her food, but I’m out of cash. Shit.
The dashboard dings at me, catching Jillian’s attention and mine.
“Shit!” I curse slapping the steering wheel.
“What, what is it?”
“We’re out of gas.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re kidding me? How do you manage to steal two cars and both be out of gas?” She falls back into her seat, a hidden smile across her face. “Some skills there, Outlaw.” Reaching over I fist her by the hair, her mouth falls open as her eyes take on a dazed look.
